nado in the forest; its
very pathway is destruction to whoso crosses it--man or beast; it is
the heathenish God of the Americanos; they build temples for it, and
flock there and worship it whenever it stops, breathing fire and flame
like a very Moloch."

"Eh! St. Anthony preserve us!" said Faquita, shuddering; "and yet they
spoke of it as 'shares' and 'stocks,' and said it would double the
price of corn."

"Now, Judas pursue thee and thy railroad, Pereo," said Pepita,
impatiently. "It is not such bagatela that Faquita is here to relate.
Go on, child, and tell all that happened."

"And then," continued Faquita, with a slight affectation of maiden
bashfulness, in the closer-drawing circle of cigarettes, "and then they
talked of other things and of themselves; and, of a verity, this
gray-bearded Doctor will play the goat and utter gallant speeches, and
speak of a lifelong devotion and of the time he should have a right to
protect--"

"The right, girl! Didst thou say the right? No, thou didst mistake.
It was not THAT he meant?"

"Thy life to a quarter peso that the little Faquita does not mistake,"
said the evident satirist of the household. "Trust to Gomez' muchacha
to understand a proposal."

When the laugh was over, and the sparks of the cigarette, cleverly
whipped out of the speaker's lips by Faquita's fan, had disappeared in
the darkness, she resumed, pettishly, "I know not what you call it when
he kissed her hand and held it to his heart."

"Judas!" gasped Pereo. "But," he added, feverishly, "she, the Dona
Maria, thy mistress, SHE summoned thee at once to call me to cast out
this dust into the open air; thou didst fly to her assistance? What!
thou sawest this, and did nothing--eh?" He stopped, and tried to peer
into the girl's face. "No! Ah, I see; I am an old fool. Yes; it was
Maruja's own mother that stood there. He! he! he!" he laughed
piteously; "and she smiled and smiled and broke the coward's heart, as
Maruja might. And when he was gone, she bade thee bring her water to
wash the filthy Judas stain from her hand."

"Santa Ana!" said Faquita, shrugging her shoulders. "She did what the
veriest muchacha would have done. When he had gone, she sat down and
cried."

The old man drew back a step, and steadied himself by the table. Then,
with a certain tremulous audacity, he began: "So! that is all you have
to tell--nothing! Bah! A lazy slut sleeps at her duty, and dreams
behind a curtain! Y